“Does she speak?” Pen asked as the nurse passed by her.
“Very little.”
Her mother watched her as she approached. For the briefest moment, Pen thought she’d seen a spark of something in the woman’s eyes—recognition maybe? But it was gone so fast she might have imagined it. Coming around behind her, Pen took the helm of the wheelchair and continued their stroll through her mother’s beloved gardens.
“Veronica told me you were sick. She’s been at me to come visit you for a while now. I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse I waited so long. You have no idea who I am, no recollection of the things you’ve done. Maybe it’s for the best. There was nothing you could have said to make it better or excuse what happened. And now you don’t have to try. Coming here, seeing you, I realize now that I need to forgive you so I can move on. So, I guess that’s why I’m here.” They strolled past the plumeria tree and Pen drew a deep breath, savoring the sweet floral scent. “I’m here to tell you I forgive you.”
There weren’t many places Pen could go where she felt centered and at peace. After visiting the home of her nightmares, she needed to come here, to the place of her dreams. It had been years since she’d been to the botanical butterfly garden. She’d almost forgotten it existed. But sitting on the park bench surrounded by flowers and hundreds of butterflies, Pen was comforted by memories from long ago. They reminded her of a time when life was simple—when she’d been happy.
As she watched the butterflies dance through the air, flittering all around, the beauty and simplicity of it all resonated somewhere inside her. She wanted this…the effortlessness of living, the synergy of life, the freedom to just be. And she was determined to let go of the past and grasp hold of her future. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her. She’d made such strides today, only one leap left—but it was a big one.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
She turned at the sound of that familiar voice, her own butterflies taking flight in her stomach as she watched Kyle approach. Perhaps he was her personal botanical garden, because those beautiful little things hadn’t existed until she met him, and whenever he was near, they never ceased fluttering.
“How did you find me?”
“Pinged your cell. I installed the security app after the incident with the closet.” He took a seat on the bench beside her. “I saw you left town earlier. Figured you needed some space. Where did you go?”
“To see my mom. It was time.”
He nodded thoughtfully, seeming to weigh his words carefully. “Your sister will be pleased.”
“I didn’t do it for her.” She met and held Kyle’s gaze. “I did it for me.”
“How did it go?”
“As good as it could.”
“And then you came here.”
She nodded. He was probably wondering why she hadn’t gone home. Perhaps he thought she was avoiding him. He was right. As much as she wanted to get this over with, she’d held onto her secrets so tightly, she wasn’t sure she knew how to let him in.
“It’s quiet in here,” he offered, moving their conversation to neutral ground. “No one else around. I can see why you like it.”
For the longest time, they sat side by side, watching the parade of butterflies cascading all around them. “If you sit very still, they might land on you.”
He seemed content to sit here with her, and she appreciated the opportunity to gather her thoughts. His presence comforted her as she worked up the courage to speak. Maybe he could sense she needed time, or maybe he was at a loss for what to say. She hadn’t been kind to him that morning, and she’d hurt him when she’d run out. He’d told her he couldn’t be the only one fighting for them. Yet here he was, refusing to give up on her when she’d given him every reason to walk away. Was Vi right? Was he strong enough to bear the weight of her truth?
“When I was a child, my father used to bring me here all the time. He’d sit on this bench and I’d run and play among the butterflies. Then, I’d climb into his lap and we’d pretend to be statues to see how many butterflies we could get to land on us.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It’s my favorite memory of him.”
“I’m sorry you lost him, Pen.” He slowly moved to take her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“It might not have been so bad if I’d only lost him. But I lost my joy, my life, my innocence.” She swallowed against the emotion building in her throat, forcing it down so she could continue. She hadn’t intended to do this right here—right now—but it was never going to be easy, and that place gave her comfort and strength.
She clung to the memory of the little girl she once was, the comforting thoughts of her father, and disassociated herself from the tragedy, until she was reciting someone else’s nightmare and not her own.
“I was eleven when my father died. My mother married Senator Cantrel a year later. I was twelve. On my thirteenth birthday, he raped me.”
“Jesus Christ.” Kyle flinched as if he’d been sucker-punched in the gut.
She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see the expression on his face, or she knew she’d never be able to continue. She just had to get through this.
“You didn’t tell anyone?” There was no judgment, no accusation in his voice. He was just trying to understand how this could have happened.
“I did. But no one would believe me. Not even my own mother. She had been having an affair with William Cantrel for years. She thought I was just angry over my father’s death, over the affair. And I was. When I told her what was happening, it was his word against mine. She wanted to believe him. She had everything to lose—status, wealth, a fancy house, a nice car.
“She loved being a trophy wife. She didn’t want to give that up. He convinced her I was lying, and that I was trying to get even with him by destroying his reputation and his career. He’s a politician. He could lie better than I could tell the truth.”
“Holy shit, Pen.”
“It went on for three years. I even went to the police but no one would believe me. My mother showed up and gave them the same story my stepfather had given her. He was a US Senator; no one wanted to touch that hornets’ nest. They all valued their careers too much. That’s why I didn’t want to go to the police with what’s been happening lately. I didn’t trust them to help me. I was afraid they would remember me from before and you would find out what happened.”
Kyle exhaled a sigh and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Pen.” His words were muffled, but she could still understand him. Oddly, she found herself wanting to comfort him as she continued to assault his ears with the truth.
“After I cut my wrist, I was committed to a psychiatric hospital. I stayed there for two years—until I turned eighteen. The living conditions weren’t great, but at least I was safe there. It was the only place he couldn’t reach me. It wasn’t difficult to stay committed. I just told them if they let me out, I would kill myself. And I would have. I wasn’t lying.”
Kyle leaned back and scrubbed his hands over his face before turning that vibrant blue stare on her. “I don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me this. Why you thought I wouldn’t understand.” The agonizing pain she saw reflecting back at her almost made her falter. She could stop now. She didn’t have to tell him the rest and he would never know. She could protect him from the truth—from her shame. But if she did, then her secret would always be between them, and all this would have been for nothing.
Her eyes began to burn with the threat of impending tears. “Because, Kyle, when I tried to kill myself…I was eight weeks pregnant. I didn’t know it at the time, but looking back, maybe I suspected it. All the signs were there. But I just wanted it to be over. Because of what I did, the baby died, and I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”
As Pen lost the battle with her tears, Kyle was pretty certain it would have hurt less if someone would have just ripped his heart out of
his chest. “Oh, sweetheart. Come here.” He pulled Pen into his arms and held her tight. He didn’t know what to say. “It’s okay”?—because it wasn’t. Anything out of his mouth would only sound placating at this point. He couldn’t begin to understand the level of guilt and grief she’d been carrying around with her all those years. And as she sat here telling him the story of her tragic past, he realized that the reason she didn’t think he could ever get beyond this was because she had never forgiven herself.
“You’re never going to look at me the same again,” she cried.
“You’re right. I won’t.” When she started sobbing harder, Kyle leaned back and took a gentle hold on her chin, tipping it up so she would meet his eyes. “When I look at you now, I will see the strongest woman I’ve ever known. I’ll see a survivor who faced her biggest fear and showed me the darkest parts of her because she took a chance on me, trusting that I could love her through this. And I can, Pen. If you’ll let me. Will you do that?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“That means no more pushing me away, all right? You and me, we’re in it to win it.”
She nodded and he reached up, drying her cheeks with his thumbs. After placing a kiss on her forehead, he stood and offered her his hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kyle took his time making love to her. With every touch, every kiss, every softly whispered word, he worshiped her body. Pen had never felt so connected to another person, and she’d never felt so light and unburdened. She had this man, Kyle “The Killer” Scott, to thank for setting her free. Despite how hard she’d fought to push him away, to hide her darkness from him, he’d never stopped fighting for her—for them.
She held his gaze as he pushed inside her, and the intensity of love she saw staring back at her took her breath away. As he set a languid pace, the fire inside her simmered on a slow burn, building with gradual intensity that heightened all her senses. His usual dirty talk was replaced by worshipful adoration. “You’re so beautiful… Can’t believe you’re mine... So proud of you… Going to love you forever…”
What had she done to deserve such a noble fighter in her corner? She refused to dwell on the past another moment, or to measure her self-worth against this beautiful second chance gift she’d been given.
His pace quickened, and the skill and grace in which his body moved over hers, inside her, was pure artistry. He was magnificent. The fire burned hotter, the tension inside her building. Her lids fluttered shut as she began to get swept away in the rising tide of her release. “Uh-uh,” he panted, keeping his pace as he hovered above her. “Eyes open, sweetheart. I want you looking at me when you come.”
He demanded everything from her until there was nothing left to hide behind. She opened her eyes and was caught up in the vibrant blue shining back at her. His gaze held her firm, never wavering as he swiftly brought her to the pinnacle of release. “Kyle…”
“Go ahead and come, baby. I’m right there with you.”
His erotic promise sent her careening over the edge. She cried out as her orgasm gripped her, her eyes never leaving his and she saw the moment he followed her. With each jetting pulse of heat crashing into her core, she came harder than the last. The pleasure and the love she saw staring back at her was a sight she would remember for the rest of her life.
Kyle Scott officially owned her—body, mind and soul…
Pen woke in a cocoon of Kyle’s warm embrace, head resting on his left arm, his other arm wrapped snugly around her waist. Every inch of her back was pressed against his front and one of his heavy thighs draped over hers. She couldn’t move, but that was okay. Personal space was overrated. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see it was almost seven a.m. Impossible. Kyle never slept this late, and yet here he was, still soundly asleep. Then again, he hadn’t been resting well. She knew her nightmares were waking him, keeping him up at night. But last night, there had been no demons to visit her in her sleep.
She wanted to cheer, to celebrate. Kyle inhaled a deep breath and stretched. He rolled onto his back and she went with him, unwilling to leave the shelter of his embrace quite yet. Draping her forearm across his chest, she propped her chin on her arm and studied him. Those frisky butterflies returned. Yep, totally her botanical garden…
Slowly, he opened his eyes and squinted against the sunlight breaking in through the bedroom window. Lifting his head, he looked at her and smiled, sending those butterflies to flight.
“Hey. What’cha doin’?”
His sleep-roughened voice was like a caress. “Just watching you sleep.”
He chuckled, the deep throaty vibration teasing her sensitive nipples.
“That bored, huh?”
“That in love with you.” It was the first time she’d said those words to a man before, and there was a time she thought she never would. Although Pen was sure she felt it, she hadn’t told him last night. In all the ways he’d pushed her to let go, worked to help her overcome her barriers, this was the one piece of herself he’d never demanded. He’d known it needed to be freely given. And she was ready; ready to give him her heart forever.
His playful grin turned serious as he studied her, eyes searching hers as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, though it could hardly be a surprise. He had to know how she felt about him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that.”
Before she could respond, he rolled her beneath him and kissed her. What started out as sweet and gentle quickly grew heated. His hand slipped between them and he was positioning his shaft to slide into her when his cell went off on the nightstand.
“Ignore it. I’ll call them back,” he murmured against her lips between kisses.
But she turned her head to the side and lifted it, trying to see who was calling so early. Kyle’s talented mouth latched onto her neck, nipping and sucking that sensitive spot below her ear. This was her weakness, her Achilles’ heel, and it melted her every single time.
“Kyle, it’s your sister. I think you should answer it.”
“She’s probably calling to yell at me more for messing things up with you.”
“What?” Pen laughed and grabbed his chin, forcing his head up so she could look at him. The call rolled over to voicemail.
“When she called me to confirm our dinner plans last night, I told her you left. Naturally, she blamed me for your leaving.”
Pen laughed again. “I think I’ve found myself an ally.”
“That you have. And God help me,” he groaned.
When his cell started up again, Kyle exhaled a sigh and rolled off her, reaching for the phone. He answered it by saying, “Kinda busy here, sis. What’s the emergency?” But then his playful grin disappeared, tension steeling through his body. “When? Yeah, of course. I’ll head up there right now.” He disconnected the call and tossed back the covers, climbing out of bed.
“Kyle, what’s wrong?”
He rushed over to the dresser and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Regan’s dad died this morning.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m heading over to the hospital now to be with him. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“That’s all right. Just do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”
On his way past the bed, he stopped and gave her a quick kiss. “Rain check on the quickie?”
“There’s no expiration date.”
“Damn, I love you.” He gave her one last kiss and was out the door.
Kyle stood outside the door of the hospital room. A month ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about entering. A month ago, Regan would have called him himself to tell him his father had died. He hadn’t asked Willow why she wasn’t here with him, but knew if she wasn’t, then there must have been a damn good reason.
Was this really what their friendship had been reduced to? Kyle scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, feeling like a total a
sshole. He never would have made it through his parents’ deaths without Regan. And here the guy was, walking one of life’s hardest paths alone.
He could only imagine the thoughts going through Regan’s head as he stood over the emaciated body of a man who had made his life a living hell. Losing someone you loved was a far different experience from losing someone you hated. And Kyle thought he suffered from guilt and regret. He couldn’t begin to imagine the emotions Regan was dealing with right now.
Stepping away from the window, Kyle entered without knocking. Not wanting to disturb Regan, he stood silently by the door, having no idea how his presence would be received. It took a moment for Regan to glance behind him. Other than a flicker of surprise in his glossy eyes, he gave no reaction.
“What are you doing here?”
He didn’t take offense to the cool rawness of Regan’s voice. He deserved it. “Willow called me.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
Kyle wasn’t the only one wounded by this fractured friendship. There was nothing like a tragedy to clear one’s lens. “Yes, I did.” He stepped forward, slowly approaching father and son. “Will didn’t want you doing this alone. Neither do I.” He clasped Regan’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “How you holding up?”
Regan cleared his throat and used his thumb to wipe the corner of his eye. “It’s funny…” His voice was wooden, void of emotion as they stood at the bedside of Regan’s father, witnessing what the ravages of alcohol could do to a person. “I imagined this moment a thousand times, wished for it a thousand more, and now that it’s here…” He shrugged. “I’ve got nothing, none of the emotions I know I’m supposed to be feeling right now. There is just an empty hole. My father’s dead, and that should mean something to me, right? But it’s kinda hard to mourn something you never had. I buried him a long time ago. Now I’m just going through the motions.”
He may feel that way now, but the grief and the guilt would come. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing else to say.
In for the Win Page 28